


Subject to PunTax

by tisfan



Series: Imagine Tony and Bucky 2016/2017 [7]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Coffee date, College AU, First Dates, Knock Knock Jokes, M/M, Star Trek - Freeform, Tea
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-19
Updated: 2017-04-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:36:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Combined these two promptsMy favorite OTP headcanon rn is for Person A to be really annoyed like, “Whatever, suck my dick” and for Person B to kneel unflinchingly and pull Person A’s pants down. Bucky is Person A and Tony and Person B.found this post absolutely hilarious when i thought of Tony and Bucky: “Every time you raise your hand to answer a question in lecture you manage to work a pun in somewhere, and NO ONE ever notices except me. Everyone thinks I’m crazy because I’m always laughing for ‘no reason’ and lately you’ve taken to winking at me every time you drop a joke. I have had ENOUGH I will fucking fight you right in front of the whole class."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dreamingdarkly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamingdarkly/gifts).



_Freshman year, second semester_  

Bucky was already running late to class and it was only the third day. He took the stairs two at a time, books loose under one arm. There wasn’t enough time to wait for the elevator, and by the time he reached the lecture hall on the fifth floor, he was panting for air. He entered the class and dropped into the very back row, slumping into his chair to avoid drawing attention to himself. 

Bucky had been the star pitcher for his high school baseball team by his sophomore year; expectations had been that he was going to be drafted for the minor leagues directly out of high school. Right up until he’d gotten shot in a convenience store hold up; he’d saved the cashier’s life and taken a bullet in the elbow for his trouble. He was lauded as a hero, until it became obvious that his arm was never going to make a complete recovery. His baseball career had been ruined and no one thought he was smart enough to make it into college based on his grades. 

But he had three years to turn his life around, give up on sports and make something of his life. So he’d knuckled down, done the work, and graduated in the top ten percent of his class. 

All the false sympathy and attention had led to Bucky choosing to go to college as far from home as he could get accepted -- and he’d taken on a shitton of student debt paying out of state tuition -- and now he was in New York instead of Indiana, which was great, because no one knew who he was, or called him hero, and that was worth all the heartache and debt that student loans was going to bring him. 

He still hated drawing attention to himself, however, and being late to class was just one of those things that always got him unfavorable professorial attention. In fact, the professor was looking up now, and… _shit_. 

Right at that moment, the door opened again and another student slumped in; dark hair, wearing reflective sunglasses and sporting an elegant goatee. Bucky turned, along with half the class, to watch the newcomer walk in. _Cute_ , Bucky thought and grinned, and then he walked by, and dear god in heaven, he was wearing skinny jeans and his ass was perfect. Just… wow.   

“Sorry I’m late,” the guy said. “Theater class ran late. Too much drama.” 

Bucky couldn’t help it, he laughed out loud before he was aware of it, and the whole class turned to stare at him, which made him slump down even lower in his chair. The other latecomer spun lazily around to look, lowered his shades on his nose, then winked saucily and took his seat. 

Which should have been the end of it; Bucky learned the faster way out of the Baxter building where his Mythology class was, and then managed to make it to Multivariable Calculus inside the nine minute window. He continued to sit in the very back row. And the other guy continued to be late. Every single class. Each time, he made some ridiculous joke and Bucky found himself cracking up. 

Bucky’s day was completely made every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, watching the guy’s ass as he strolled down the aisle to take his seat. He would sit exactly two rows ahead of Bucky, and Bucky found himself in class after class watching the back of his neck, how smooth his skin looked, the way he twitched and fidgeted in his seat. 

Four weeks into the semester, the professor rolled her eyes at his excuses and told him to leave if he couldn’t be more timely. He placed his hand over his heart as he turned around, looked directly at Bucky and said, “Now I’ve done it. I’ve been kicked out of math class for one too many infractions.” 

And of course Bucky laughed. He couldn’t help it. 

“If you think Mr. Stark is so dreadfully amusing,” the professor added, “please feel free to join him.” 

Bucky opened his mouth to protest and the professor just waved him off. _Shit_. 

Bucky gathered up his things and followed Stark out of the classroom. 

“Stark!” Bucky yelled as soon as he got out of the auditorium. 

“Oh, hey Betelgeuse,” Stark said, turning around, “didn’t expect to see you at the after _math_.” 

Whatever cross words Bucky was going to say stuck in his throat as he cracked up again. “After _math…_ oh, that’s terrible. _Terrible_.” 

“Hey, I’m an invertebrate punster,” Stark said. “Spinelessly unable to resist a pun. So slug me.” 

Ug. That was even _worse_. “You are gonna get me in trouble,” Bucky said. “An’ I ain’t good at this sort of math, so I kinda need to be in _class_.” 

“Pfft,” Stark said. “I’ll tutor you.” 

“How can you tutor me in the class you’re taking?” 

“Oh, I’m not taking MVC,” he said. “I’m Professor Grey’s T.A. I took MVC like four years ago,” he said. “Tony Stark, that’s my name. And you are? I mean, you have a big red star tattooed on your arm, but you’re probably not Michael Keaton.” 

“Bucky Barnes,” Bucky introduced himself. “How are you… I mean…” 

“Boy genius,” Tony said, pointing to himself. “Came to college when I was fifteen, so, yeah, we’re the same age, I’m betting, but I’m a grad-student.” 

“A grad student who makes math puns?” 

“Hey, math puns are a sine of a bigger problem. But if you subtract me from your life, it would just add to my sadness.” 

Bucky put his hand over his face and groaned. “Now you’re just pushing it.” 

“I can’t run out of math puns,” Tony protested. “They’re always multiplying.” 

“I can’t decide if you think you’re funny, or you’re just trying to get on my nerves,” Bucky said. Bucky shook his head and walked away, headed to the library where he was going to read the chapter for this week’s math lesson; reading math really sucked, but what else was he going to do? 

“No, no,” Tony said, falling into step beside him. Well, skipping beside him. Bucky hadn’t noticed before, but Tony was pretty short, and Bucky walked like he was in a race. Didn’t seem to bother Tony, who could not only skip, but managed to do it _backward_ so that he was still facing Bucky as he talked. “Come on, man. You’re the first person who’s ever laughed at my jokes. Look, I’m sorry I got you in trouble, and really, I can tutor you, but… it’s hard for me to make friends, everyone thinks I’m a super-nerd, and I am, I know that. Let me take you out to coffee? Unless that’s not your cup of tea. Drinking too much coffee can cause a latte problems. I know a place where the coffee tastes like mud because it was just ground a few --” 

“Shut up! All right,” Bucky relented. “You can tutor me in this class, but you gotta stop with the puns, they’re just awful.” 

“Hey, there’s a fine line… between a numerator and a denominator. Only a fraction of the people I meet will understand that --” 

“Tony, stop.” 

“-- some people appreciate the joke, some people don’t. The division is clear.” 

“I hate you.” 

“Blow me,” Tony snapped back, still smirking. 

“Oh, so _that’s_ how it is?” Bucky murmured, giving Tony his best bedroom eyes. “Is this a coffee date, or a _coffee date_.” 

Tony gulped, took two steps backward, eyes going wide. Well, at least that shut him up for a minute. Of course, Tony was probably going to bow out of both the tutoring and the coffee, and Bucky couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Um…” Tony said, looking around. “Okay, if you’re one of Ty Stone’s friends playing pick on the queer kid, I’m going to be very disappointed.” 

Bucky took a deep breath, okay, this was good, actually. “Don’t even know who that is,” Bucky said. 

“You were serious?” 

Bucky shrugged. “Well, I don’t usually put out til the second date,” he cautioned. 

Tony considered that for a moment, then said, “So… want to go to the movies tonight?” 

Bucky laughed, slung his arm around Tony’s shoulders and pointed him in the direction of the nearest coffee shop. “Coffee. And homework first. And no more puns.” 

“Welcome to the Tony Stark sexual innuendo hour,” Tony said. “Thank you for coming.”

“Oh my god.”


	2. All About Chemistry

 

There were three coffee shops near campus, because duh. Tony steered them away from Daily Grind, which was closest, but also, as he said, had no ambience. “IKEA does coffee,” he said. “Ugly orange furniture and a crappy manager who holds everyone who doesn’t take it black in contempt. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a coffee purist, but when you let it interfere with business -- I know a couple of girls who’ve left there in tears because the guy encourages his baristas to mock the pumpkin spice latte fans -- then you’re just taking it too far.” 

Cafe Ollie was Bucky’s personal favorite; the crowd that hung out there were mostly skater punks and the emo/goth crowd from the college. Bucky had enjoyed a brief flirtation with one of the baristas there, Sam, but then Sam started dating this guy, Steve, and the first time Bucky laid eyes on Steve, all his hopes of dating Sam went right out the window. Steve was huge, and Steve was gorgeous, and worst of all, Steve was the nicest fucking guy Bucky’d ever met, which just made it impossible to see Sam dumping Steve for Bucky, and worse, that Bucky wouldn’t even want him to anymore, because hurting Steve would be like kicking a golden retriever puppy. 

But Tony led Bucky past those two places and a little further off the beaten way; Bucky knew Zarathustra's existed because Hank’s girlfriend Janet went there sometimes for Friday night poetry slams, but Bucky hadn’t bothered. 

Zarathustra’s was nice, in a dark, private sort of way. Unlike Daily Grind, or Cafe Ollie, the lights were kept dim and all the furniture looked like the sort of comfy, well-used stuff one might find in their parent’s rec-room. Sturdy, stain-resistant fabrics in a variety of colors, weirdly complemented by the studio-art pieces that hung along the walls with little spotlights. The coffee bar itself was antiqued and silk-smooth polished wood with a variety of ugly stools -- each decorated with a vinyl cushion featuring a sports car logo. Tony selected a Maserati stool at the far end and Bucky sat next to him. 

Tony had barely put his butt on the stool when the barista, a red-haired woman with an impressive scowl put two tiny espresso cups in front of him. “So, what today, Stark?” 

Tony snapped back the espresso and sighed appreciatively. “If I was straight, I would totally marry you, Natasha.”

“If I was straight,” Natasha, apparently, retorted, “I’d be running as fast as I could in the opposite direction. Oh, I should not have said that, apparently you have a date because you are giving me that ‘shut up now’ face, which you really should not do. Hello Tony’s date. What can I get you?” 

Bucky tried to hide his smirk as Tony looked both embarrassed and somewhat annoyed with his friend. The blackboard over Natasha’s head had a bunch of handwritten specials on it, as well as some very elaborate chalk-drawings, including, as he saw down in one corner, a little cartoon version of Tony himself, drinking out of an espresso cup. 

“Barista’s choice,” Bucky said, spreading his hands. “S’long as it’s caffeinated, I really don’t care.” 

Tony eyed him sideways for a moment, then leaned over and touched Natasha’s wrist. “Give him the Bee Sting. I’ll take a mochatini with hazelnut.” 

Natasha turned to Bucky with an expression of profound sympathy. “You should leave now. That’s another four shots of espresso he just ordered. I’ll hold his arm, if you need a head start.” 

“I think I can handle it,” Bucky said. “How much worse could he get?” 

“I’ll remind you that you said that,” she said. “You boys want a pastry or something, before Tony buzzes himself right off to the moon?” She didn’t actually wait for an answer to that, just tossed two enormous cinnamon buns onto plates, doused them with frosting, and dropped them off before getting their coffees started. 

Tony knocked back his second shot of espresso and shoved the tiny cups back across the bar while Natasha busied herself with the steamer. “Don’t mind Nat,” Tony said, “she’s been making my coffee for me since I got here.” 

“He has my schedule memorized,” Natasha called out. “It’s embarrassing. You’d think no one else in town knew how to pull a decent shot.” She lined up four shot glasses and proceeded to pour, capping each one off with just the right amount of crema. Even from the bar, Bucky was impressed with the smooth motion of her hands as she worked. 

She poured chocolate and caramel into the bottom of a martini glass, swirled them around until the sides were coated, added what looked like a goddamn red hot fireball candy to the bottom, then poured the four shots into a shaker glass full of ice, added a pump of hazelnut flavoring, a half teaspoon of chili powder and shook. She dumped the resultant mess into the glass, ran a slice of jalapeno around the rim, and then left it on the side as a garnish. 

Bucky stared at the drink in horror. 

“You… drink that. On purpose?” Bucky was no longer confused as to where all the bad jokes came from. Someone who drank coffee like that had to be full of bad ideas ranging in scale from “I’ll just watch one more episode of Supernatural” all the way to “invading Russia in the winter.” 

Tony shrugged. “It’s good.” 

“I’ll… take your word for it,” Bucky said. 

“If you’re not part of the solution, you’re part of the precipitate,” Tony pointed out. 

“Oh, god, are you starting with the puns again?” Bucky groaned. Natasha put a tall mug in front of him, filled with coffee and topped with rapidly melting whip cream. A sticky mess of honeycomb was shoved into the cup, dripping down the side. 

Bucky turned the cup around a few times trying to find a safe spot to drink from that wouldn’t end up with whip cream on his nose or honey in his hair. He lifted the cup and sipped. 

“Oh. My. God.” Ambrosia in a cup. Bucky took another few swallows, burning his tongue, but damn it was good. Like, magnificent. Fantastic. The best coffee he’d ever have had. 

“Good, right?” Tony said. “Natasha makes the best coffee. It’s totally her superpower.” 

“It’s practice, you moronic genius,” Natasha said, from the sink where she was washing dishes. 

“For this, I’ll listen to you make puns all afternoon,” Bucky said, pulling the honeycomb out of his cup and laying it on the side of his half-eaten cinnamon roll. 

Tony grinned, wide and brilliant like Bucky had just made his century. “Hey, I made a chemistry joke, but I got no reaction.” 

Bucky shook his head, but contributed a bad joke of his own to the mix. “Do you know any jokes about sodium?” 

“Na,” Tony deadpanned. “You know, I never trust atoms. They make up _everything_.” 

Bucky coughed, swished the remaining coffee around in the bottom of the mug and tipped it up again. If it wouldn’t be horrible table manners, he’d have been tempted to lick the inside of the mug. “Did you hear oxygen and potassium went on a date? It went OK.” 

“Oh, very nice,” Tony complimented. “You know, this photon checked into a hotel. The manager asks him if he needs help with his baggage. He says, ‘No, I’m travelling light.’” 

“That’s _terrible_ , Tony,” Natasha said. “Please stop torturing your date in my shop. I’ll have to call the police.” 

“Look, I have to make up bad jokes about chemistry, all the good ones Argon,” Tony protested. 

“You know,” Natasha said, “If the Silver Surfer and Iron Man teamed up, they’d be alloys.” 

“I knew you had one in you, Nat,” Tony said. 

“What do you do with a sick chemist?” Bucky inquired. “Can’t curium…” 

“Can’t helium,” Natasha pointed out. 

“Gotta barium,” Tony finished off, then all three of them were laughing and making faces. 

“Okay, okay, enough,” Bucky said, licking the sticky frosting off his lip after finishing the pastry. “I give up, I surrender, you win.” 

“Oh, goodie,” Tony said. “I adore winning. But, moving on to the fun part of the date,” he said, giving Bucky a wicked, come-hither look. “Why don’t you sit on my lap and we’ll talk about the first thing that comes up?” 

“Cheeeeesy,” Natasha mocked him from across the room. 

Bucky grinned. “I might be persuaded.”


	3. Chai Chai Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Tony doesn't show up to class for a few days, Bucky gets worried.
> 
> Luckily, Rhodey, some tea, and more bad puns are a good rescue attempt.

Two sort of dates on Friday (coffee, and studying) another one on Sunday -- catching a movie at the second run theater -- and Bucky was walking on cloud nine when he sat down in Multivariable Calculus. Despite the teasing and innuendos, they _hadn’t_ had sex, which was fine with Bucky, he was in no particular hurry. And making out with Tony in the back stairwell of his dorm had been enough of a turn on without rushing things along. 

So, Bucky was kinda expecting Tony to get to class (probably late, because that was predictable by this point) and sit with him. 

Five minutes into class, and no Tony. Bucky kept checking the time, his eyes flicking between Professor Grey and the clock so regularly that the hands on the clock never seemed to move. What the hell even? Tony hadn’t missed class since the semester started. Late, yeah, he was late all the damn time, but… 

Not that he had to be taking the class. He’d told Bucky as much; that he was the TA and he only sat through the lectures because he didn’t have a class and it was useful to know what Grey had been lecturing on when students came to him for help. 

Maybe it was Bucky; that Tony hadn’t had as much fun on their dates, or had been disappointed that they hadn’t led anywhere further than a bit of frantic necking or… 

 _Stop it, Barnes._ Working himself into a tizzy wasn’t doing any good. Maybe Tony just had a headache. Or slept late. Or… 

Class ended. No Tony. Bucky frowned, tugged his backpack up on his shoulder, and headed to the library. He had work to do, and now he was behind in class again because he hadn’t been paying attention to today’s lecture at all. _Fuck._  

Wednesday came and went, Tony free. 

Bucky, who’d maybe a little bit been stalking the Facebook page for Zarathustra’s, dropped in on Thursday during Natasha’s shift. He ate two cinnamon buns and drank enough coffee to hotwire a rhino, but Tony never showed up there, either. Bucky did his best to ignore the pitying looks Natasha was giving him over the espresso machine, too. She didn’t say anything, at least, about the fact that Bucky was being a weird stalker guy. 

When Tony didn’t show up to class on Friday, Bucky was getting over being hurt and all the way to worried. Where the hell was he? He hadn’t been available for office hours and Professor Grey had said she hadn’t seen him when Bucky asked, but didn’t have anything else to say, already checking her email on her phone and walking away. 

Bucky sighed. He knew what dorm Tony was in, but that could take a while, especially since it wasn’t a freshman dorm and probably didn’t have cutesy name-labels over the doors. He gathered up his books and headed out to the library, trying to figure out what to do. 

“Hey, you Bucky Barnes?” A tall black man with a beaky nose, his clothes neatly pressed and looking very… official, asked. 

“Who’s asking?” 

“Jim Rhodes,” the man said. “I’m Tony’s best friend and he needs some serious help right now. I was hoping, since he spent all last weekend talking my ear off about you, that you might give me a hand.” 

Bucky’s heart pounded in his chest. “Is he okay?” 

“By some definitions,” Jim said, “no, not really. Come on.” 

“What --” 

“It’ll be easier to show you than tell you,” Jim said. “Look, you like him, right?” 

Bucky frowned. “That’s kinda a personal question,” he said. “How do you even know --” 

Jim stopped and looked at him pointedly. “You’re the only ‘emo-punk with a great ass and dreamy eyes’ in that class. I guessed.” Jim made finger-quotes around the descriptor, which had Bucky blushing. 

Jim led him through campus over to the engineering labs, down the elevator and stopped outside one of the labs. He grabbed a thermos and a brown paper bag off the table and shoved it in Bucky’s direction. “Go in, talk to him, get him to eat something. Maybe, if we’re really lucky, you can talk him into leaving the lab. Go slow, he gets spooked sometimes when he’s like this.” 

“Like _what_?” 

“Science-y,” Jim said, waving a hand around. “Look, all I know is that Howard called him and Tony’s been in the lab since _Sunday night_.” 

“What’s in this?” 

“Herbal tea,” Jim said. “It makes him sleepy. Boy needs to sleep somewhere other than face planted on his keyboard.” 

“Why aren’t you --” 

“Because Tony is the absolute best at ignoring me,” Jim said, resigned. “Maybe the guy he’s got a crush on will be better. Just try, okay?” 

Crush? Hmm. Bucky couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “All right.” 

Bucky opened the door and pushed inside the lab. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting; Tony TA’d for a math professor, but they’d never talked about what Tony was actually studying, only what Bucky intended to do with his life (he really wanted to design cars, and thought that circuitry might be a good place to start, cars all had computers in them, these days.) 

“Holy shit,” Bucky said, stopping a few feet inside the lab. 

Apparently Tony was a robotics engineer. 

Tony, who looked like he hadn’t showered in days, was shaking minutely as he assembled a joint configuration, turned to poke at a computer screen, and then checked blueprints on his desk, muttering the whole time while holding a socket wrench in his teeth. 

“Well, that can’t be good for you,” Bucky said. “Seriously, not sanitary.” He crossed the room (Tony hadn’t even noticed him yet) and put himself directly in the path between the chair and the second computer screen. 

“Don’t have time to talk now, Rhodey,” Tony said, not even looking. How he managed to make that comprehensible with his teeth still clamped around the wrench, Bucky didn’t even want to know. 

“You don’t have to talk,” Bucky said. “I’m sure I wouldn’t understand any of this anyway. I’m struggling with math class. But…” He poured out a capful of the tea and very carefully took the wrench out of Tony’s mouth. “You probably need some fluids in you. Your friend Jim says you’ve been in here all week.” 

“Jim, nobody…” and Tony looked up. “Bucky? What the hell are you doing in -- how long have you been here? What day is it?” Tony rubbed at his eyes with one hand, almost putting his eye out with the stylus he was still carrying. “Yeah, did you bring me coffee? I love people who bring me coffee, they are my favorite.” He grabbed the cup took two swallows and made an absolutely disgusted face. 

“I take it back, I do not love you at all, what the hell is this swill?” 

“Tea,” Bucky said. “The uncaffeinated kind, if your friend has any sense at all.” 

“Well, I suppose hones-tea is the best policy,” Tony said. He made another face, sticking his tongue out and wiping his sleeve over it. 

“Tea, good,” Bucky said, then fished in the bag. “Sandwich?” 

“Really? Rhodey’s involved in this? I must say, very naugh-tea of him. Bribery. Blackmail. Something. It’s revolting.” 

“He thought you might talk to me,” Bucky said, wincing a little around the pun. “Glad he did, I been worried sick about you all week.” 

“All week?” Tony scoffed. “I think you’re overstating the gravi-tea of this situation, it’s only… wait. What day is it?” 

Bucky sighed and forced the sandwich into Tony’s hand, then pushed against the back of his wrist until it got somewhere near his face. “Eat that, and then talk.” 

Tony rolled his eyes expressively. “Worry wart,” he accused, then took a bite, which seemed to trigger some sort of response in him, because a few seconds later there was nothing left of the sandwich but crumbs. “Oh, that was good. Little dry, tho. Hit me with your best pot.” 

Bucky groaned. “You and your terrible puns.” He poured another cup of tea. “So, what are you doing?” 

Tony took a sip, grimaced, and went back to poking at the computer screen. “My dad called,” Tony explained. “We’re not exactly on terms, but I’m the only heir he’s got, so consider it top-notch job securi-tea --” Bucky shook his head, hiding his face with his hands, Jesus Christ, someone needed to stop Tony from abusing the language this way “-- and he needed an assist with a project. Not that he’d ever phrase it that way.” 

“So, you’ve been working non-stop for five days? It’s Friday, now, by the way, and I’m two classes behind in MVC because I can’t pay attention because I’ve been worried about you.” 

Tony blinked, swallowed the rest of his tea. “Well, I feel guil-tea now.” 

“Oh, my god,” Bucky complained, “will you just leaf it alone?” 

“Nothing to tea here, move oolong,” Tony snapped back, a wide grin across his face. “Wait, Friday? Really? How did it --” Tony pulled his cellphone out of his back pocket and… “Well, shit. Battery died. Is Grey pissed with me? I think I missed office hours.” 

“Yes, you did,” Bucky said. “I know, because I went to your office. And the coffee shop. I was getting ready to start a floor-to-floor search of your dorm when your friend commandeered my services.” 

Tony dug around in the paper bag and liberated a bag of chips, shoving a whole handful of barbeque chips into his mouth all at once, chewing noisily. 

“Oh, that’s just brew-tea-ful,” Bucky commented, “your table manners, I mean.” 

Tony laughed, sprayed chip bits everywhere, and hastily covered his mouth with his hand. “Unfair, that’s a foul, penal-tea, red card, red card. Not allowed to make bad puns while I’m eating.” 

Bucky only raised an eyebrow. “You know, I hear Karl Marx hates Earl Grey.” 

“I’m almost positive I don’t want to know why,” Tony muttered, finding another box at the bottom of the bag. “Oooh, jelly doughnuts. I changed my mind, Rhodey is absolutely my favorite.” 

“Because all proper tea is theft,” Bucky said. 

“Oh, that’s awful, that’s like really, really terrible. Honestly, I don’t even know what to do with that, because… do you take classes to be that unfunny?” 

“Hey, I only drink ice tea, because ice was water, waaaay before it was cool,” Bucky said, popping his collar and looking down his nose at Tony. 

“I’ve created a monstrosi-tea,” Tony mourned. 

“Probably,” Bucky said. “Now, your friend wanted me to see if I could get you to get some rest, so, maybe, could I walk you back to your dorm?” 

Tony pondered the question. “Do you think it’s okay to steep together, so soon?” 

Ug. “Tony, stop,” Bucky pleaded. “Come on. This’ll keep until tomorrow, promise.” 

Tony sighed, yawned. “You’re probably right,” he admitted. “If nothing else, Howard doesn’t expect me to be done with it for another few weeks, so --” 

“Trying to prove him wrong by getting it done in five days?” 

“Well, seven days, maybe,” Tony said. He yawned again, so heroically that Bucky’s jaw hurt, just watching him. 

“Do I need to carry you to bed?” 

“Oh, would you?” Tony pressed the back of his hand to his forehead and made as if to swoon. Which turned into real swooning, and it was a good thing that Bucky used to play baseball and was pretty damn good at fielding, because he had to catch Tony before Tony hit the floor. 

“Right. Bed.” Bucky turned around and bent down a bit. “Climb on, idiot.” 

Tony didn’t hesitate, climbing on piggy-back and let Bucky link his hands under Tony’s thighs to hold him in place. He laid his head down on Bucky’s back. “This is nice,” he said, then, as he punched the button for the elevator, “I can think of something nicer, though.” 

Bucky knew -- knew mind you -- that he was going to regret asking and did anyway. “What would that be?” 

“Elevator sex,” Tony said,  “is great on so many levels.” 

“You’re a terrible, terrible person, and I should drop you,” Bucky said. 

“But you won’t.” 

“Probably not, no.”


	4. Star Trekkin' Across the Universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Star Trek puns and attempting to study while your boyfriend is being a distracting little pest...

“Did you hear about Ensign Pillsbury?” Tony said. He leaned up against the side of the library carousel where Bucky had spread out his books, head bent seriously over the papers as he tried, desperately, to study. Glancing over to see his boyfriend’s perfect thigh on the edge of the desk’s surface was not helping this endeavour at all.

“What about him?” Bucky wasn’t sure what Tony was talking about; it was astonishing how many times Tony started conversations with complete non sequiturs, his genius brain so far ahead of everyone else’s that Bucky felt like he was constantly playing a game of catch-up. It would have been annoying, but there was very little Tony seemed to like better than explaining himself, and he managed to do so in a way that was engaging and cute. Bucky could sit for hours and watch him talk, all wild gestures and animated expressions.

“He’s bread, Jim,” Tony said.

What? Bucky scrunched his nose up and then… Pillsbury. Ensign. Bread, Jim. Oh. Oh, _god_. “Your jokes, Tony, they boldly groan where no one has groaned before.” The puns, at least, Bucky was getting better at. He’d discovered, about halfway through the semester, that trying to keep up with Tony at all was sort of like running laps every day. He got faster, even if he couldn’t keep up.

“I sense… that you need a break.”

“Good going, Councilor Cleavage,” Bucky said. “ _What_ , Tony? I have a test on Monday.”

“Let me give you some dating advice from Will Riker’s mouth to your ears,” Tony said. “If at first you don’t succeed, try Troi again.”

Ow. Ow. Really, Tony’s terrible jokes made his eyelid twitch. And they weren’t funny, they really, really weren’t. Laughing would just encourage him. Bucky chewed the inside of his cheek.

“Resistance is futile,” Tony said, leaning over and nipping at Bucky’s ear, his breath warm and ticklish. Tony’d discovered that trick relatively early in their make-out sessions, that Bucky’s ears were very sensitive and made him all pliant and eager. “You will laugh at my bad jokes.”

“You could save us all some time and think of good jokes,” Bucky pointed out, “and then you wouldn’t have to bribe me into enjoying them.”

“How many ears does Spock have?”

“I’m going to regret asking,” Bucky said. “How many?”

“Three. The right ear, the left ear, and the final front ear.”

Yep. Sooo many regrets. “Studying, Tony.”

“I can help,” Tony offered.

Bucky very deliberately did not look away from his notes. “Yeah, you’re going to help me study for my Classics in Western Philosophy class?”

“Okaaaaay, no, probably not, no.” Tony managed to be still and quiet for a whole four and a half minutes -- probably a record, honestly -- while Bucky jotted notes and consulted his text book, cross-referencing his sources. “Knock knock.”

There were, Bucky knew, really nice things about having a boyfriend. He should make a list and keep it on him, for moments like these where he couldn’t remember any of them. He sighed. “Who’s there?”

“Spock.”

“Spock who?”

“Spock up, I can’t hear you.”

“Tony.”

“Yes, my love?” Tony practically flopped into Bucky’s lap, shoving the carousel a good six inches across the floor with an ungodly screech.

And now he had a lap full of Tony and the attention of everyone who was trying to study on this floor. Wait, what? “What did you say?”

“Spock up --”

“No, I mean the other part.”

“Oh.” Tony flushed. “Nothing, just being me.”

“Over the top and adorable, I know.” It wasn’t fair, god it wasn’t fair. Bucky pulled Tony closer for a moment, breathed in the scent of his hair and shampoo. _My love._ “I’m not going to get any studying done, am I?”

“I can be good,” Tony said, checking his watch. “How long do you need?”

“Tell ya what,” Bucky offered. “You let me study for an hour, and I’ll take a break, okay?”

“Okay,” Tony said. He batted his eyelashes. “How many Romulans does it take to screw in a lightbulb?”

“Um…”

“One hundred and fifty one! One to screw in the lightbulb and a hundred and fifty to blow up the house in disgrace.”

“That one’s a little obscure for me,” Bucky admitted, frowning.  


“Oh! That’s what we’ll do on your break, then,” Tony chirped.

“Blow up the house?”

“Watch Star Trek,” Tony said.

“Sure, why not?” Bucky turned back to his books. True to his word, Tony was mostly quiet. After about fifteen minutes, he dragged another chair over and folded himself into it. A few moments after that, he was half-sprawled across his chair, with his head in Bucky’s lap, like the world’s most obnoxious cat.

Bucky ran his fingers through Tony’s hair while he read through his notes. It was oddly soothing.

Tony was pretty much asleep by the time Bucky finished reading through his notes and drawing up flashcards. A comfort, having him warm and sleepy and practically purring against Bucky’s leg while working. Probably not very comfortable, for Tony, but what was a guy supposed to do.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Bucky said, packing his things. “I’m done for now. Let’s go watch some television.”

“I cannae get up, right now, Captain. There’s a wee problem with ma transporter beam! I cannae work miracles!”

“I’m not carrying you across campus again, Tony,” Bucky said, bouncing his leg until Tony reluctantly untangled himself.

“Damn it, Jim,” Tony said, “I’m a doctor, not a fully functioning adult.”

“Come on, babydoll,” Bucky said. “I’ll get you a coffee and we can watch Star Trek.”

“Hmmm, two of my three favorite things,” Tony said, dragging so much of his weight against Bucky’s arm that honestly, it might as well be easier to carry him.

“What’s the third thing?”

Tony kissed his cheek noisily. “I love every bone in your body,” he said. “ _Especially_ mine.”

“Keep that up, laddie,” Bucky said, using his best (probably not very good) Scottie accent, “and ye’ll nae be gettin’ any television watchin’ in today.”

“Beam me up, hottie.”


End file.
